로그인Rome hit different the second you stepped off the plane. The air was warmer, softer. The sky brighter. The noise louder in a way that felt alive, not chaotic. Even the airport smelled like espresso and fresh bread. Gabe pressed his face to the window of the car the entire ride into the city, pointing at every scooter, every fountain, every building older than anything he’d ever seen.
“Dad! Look! That building is crooked!”
“That’s just old,” I
I couldn’t believe they actually did it. They really brought me here. To the middle of nowhere. To a ranch. With dirt. And animals. And no city for hours. I wasn’t a country girl. I wasn’t built for this. I was supposed to be in the city, in heels, in nice clothes, with people who mattered. Not… here. And the worst part? I didn’t even know Russian.Mama tried to teach me when I was little, but why would I need it? I lived in America. I wasn’t planning on running off to some frozen farm in the middle of Russia. I tuned her out every time she tried to talk. Now, I wished I hadn’t. Now I was sitting at a long wooden dinner table, surrounded by people speaking a language I barely understood, pretending I wasn’t dying inside.And Babulya was gushing over Marco. Marco...The man who stole my brother from the life he was supposed to have. “Oh, Roc,” she said, patting Marco’s hand like he was made of gold. “He is so handsome. Such kind eyes. You chose well.”I stared at her in disbelief. “Why
I hated packing. Not because it was hard. Not because I didn’t want to go. But because every folded shirt, every zipped bag, every checklist reminded me that this trip wasn’t a vacation. It was damage control. Marco sat on the edge of my bed, watching me shove another sweater into the suitcase. “You’re going to break the zipper,” he said gently.“I’ll buy a new one,” I muttered. He didn’t argue. He knew better. The lockdown being lifted should’ve felt like freedom. Instead, it felt like a countdown. The sooner we got Letta to Russia, the sooner I could get back here and help Salvatore and Matteo deal with Juan. I wasn’t leaving them to handle that alone. Not after everything. From the hallway, I heard my parents talking in low voices, my mother switching between English and Russian as she double‑checked flight details. My father reminding her to pack warm clothes even though it was summer there too.Marco leaned back on his hands. “You’re nervous.”I froze mid‑fold. “About what?”He ga
I folded the last of Gabe’s shirts and set it gently into the suitcase. It felt strange packing again, not in fear this time, not in a rush, not with my heart in my throat. This time… it felt like relief. Salvatore stood near the dresser, helping me gather the last of his things. He kept glancing toward the door, toward the hallway, toward the basement, his mind split between two worlds. “Once we’re home,” he said, tucking a stack of folded shirts under his arm, “I’ll drive back and forth to deal with Juan. Matteo and Wolf will rotate with me. You won’t be alone.”“I know,” I said softly.He set the shirts down and turned to face me fully. “I’m still putting men with Abuela. And her nurse stays with her at all times. Most of Juan’s men ran, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t a few idiots still loyal to him. They might try to find him. Or free him.”I nodded. “Whatever you think is safest.”He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ll talk to the school too. Make s
The silence was the worst part. Not the ropes. Not the cold concrete. Not even the throbbing in my knee from where she...No. I wasn’t thinking about that. It was the silence.The room was empty now. No tools. No table. No threats hanging in the air like smoke. Just a chair bolted to the floor and a cot shoved against the wall. They’d taken everything else. Including the illusion that someone might come for me. My men weren’t coming. My allies weren’t coming. No one was coming. They’d betrayed me. Or abandoned me. Or decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. I wasn’t sure which was worse.I leaned my head back against the wall, breathing through the pain, trying to piece together how everything had gone so wrong so fast. Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Voices. I stiffened, listening. Not Ricci men. Not Matteo’s cold command or Wolf’s heavy boots. These voices were softer. Familiar. Roc. And… Letta? No. Not the Letta I knew. This voice was steadier. Older. Tired.“…it’s a good choice,” Roc w
Breakfast was almost done by the time the kitchen settled into its usual morning rhythm, loud, warm, and full of women who could run a small country if they felt like it. Abuela sat at the table peeling oranges, humming under her breath. Nonna was rolling dough for fresh biscuits. GreenLee stirred a pot on the stove, the smell of cinnamon and vanilla filling the air. Kat and Ciara had just come back downstairs after changing and feeding the babies.Gabe sat on the floor with Koda and Jace, the three of them building some tower out of wooden blocks. Koda kept knocking it over. Jace kept rebuilding it. Gabe kept laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. It was peaceful. It was safe. It was home.Kat walked in first, Liana balanced on her hip, her curls wild and her tiny fist clutching Kat’s shirt. Ciara followed with L.C., who was babbling happily and reaching for anything within grabbing distance.“Breakfast smells amazing,” Ciara said, kissing Abuela’s cheek before heading
I was still staring at the stairs long after Sara disappeared up them. My wife My sweet, soft‑spoken, gentle‑hearted wife… Just shattered Juan’s knee with a hammer like she was cracking a walnut. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to chase after her, drag her back into my arms, lock her in our bedroom and have my way with her. That was sexy as fuck.Behind me, someone snorted. Then Matteo’s laugh broke the silence. “Holy shit, Sal. You’re done.”Wolf joined in, shaking his head. “Man’s officially pussy‑whipped.”Roc leaned against the wall, smirking. “Hard.”I blinked, still half in a trance. “I... what?”Matteo clapped me on the shoulder. “She kissed you, handed you a hammer, and told you to be home in time for breakfast. That’s not a wife. That’s a general.”Wolf added, “And you listened.”Roc shrugged. “To be fair, we all would.”I finally snapped out of it, rubbing a hand over my face. “You idiots are whipped too.”Matteo raised a brow. “By who?”“Ciara,” I said.He opened his mouth...Clos
Something felt wrong. I didn’t know what it was at first, a shift in the air, a silence where there shouldn’t have been one. But I’d lived too many years in this life to ignore instinct. And my instinct was screaming. I looked around the group. Kat and Ciara were arguing over which brand of pasta s
Two weeks. Two weeks of silence. Two weeks of nothing from Juan. Two weeks of everyone pacing the floors like caged animals. Even Salvatore was restless, and when he was restless, the whole house felt it. Finally, after enough arguing to shake the walls, the men agreed to let us go out. With securi
The call ended with Juan’s furious breathing still ringing in my ear. “You lose, Juan.” I said it quietly, but the words felt like steel in my mouth. Letta sobbed harder, her cuffed wrists trembling against the metal table. Katrina stood behind her, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes full of a pain only
The SUV was silent except for Marco’s ragged breathing. Roc held him upright in the backseat, whispering to him in Russian, Italian, and English, voice shaking every time Marco’s eyes fluttered. We were halfway back to the safehouse when Marco stirred. “Roc…” His voice was barely a whisper. “Where’







